


all of this around us will fall over

by bottomlouls



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-30
Updated: 2013-04-30
Packaged: 2017-12-10 00:35:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/779773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottomlouls/pseuds/bottomlouls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the number of days that are planned out for them, they appreciate how good it is in the mornings, when it’s quiet, and they can pretend for a little while that it’s always this way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all of this around us will fall over

 

...

It was good like this. Harry and Louis lying in a starchy hotel bed with sheets and pillows that swallowed them whole.

The curtains would be open just a tiny bit, so that the smallest sliver of light would puncture through, highlighting their faces with warmth, and they know it’d be time to get up, but they tried to spend as long as they possibly could like that, tangled in each other’s bodies, Harry feeling Louis’ fringe tickling his back, breathing steadily, and Louis’ll whisper _“Good morning."_ And Harry will smile because it _is_ good.

It was good because it was just them. No screaming fans, no fifty million things in their heads, beating against the back of their brains. There were no interviews with people with plastic smiles and repeated questions like _“What do you look for in a girl?”_ And they’ll laugh and nod after Harry answers and they just really have no idea.

There were no men who never seemed to smile telling them what they could and couldn’t do, giving them stuff to sign they weren’t always sure they wanted to. They were no one’s chess pieces, moving them where they pleased, making them go there and do this and say this and talk to her and make it look like you’re flirting with that girl. No lectures, no drawn out speeches of what they’re possibly making them think, _what’s wrong with you boys? Do you realize what you’re doing?_

Sometimes they forget they’re in a boy band, and they have images and things they need to have preferences in and ways they need to act, and nothing will ever be normal again.

Rules and boundaries on absolutely everything, picking at them like needles, a constant itch that you can never find to scratch. Sometimes it’s not so bad, other times it’s right there, right in front of them, like a little sibling who won’t stop sticking their finger in your face.

It was none of that in the mornings. Sometimes Harry thought about what life could be like, like this.

This moment, all day. Waking up, tiptoeing across the hardwood, careful not to wake Louis up. Going to make breakfast in the kitchen they had painted together a little while ago, and it’s quiet.

And Harry’s cooking and he hears footsteps and it’s all tingly warmth and eyes still filled with sleep and tired smiles and _“Smells good Haz.”_

Harry misses that more than anything.  
…

 _“Lou, can you stay like this for a second?”_ Harry asks one morning in their flat when Louis finishes eating his toast, and his hair is everywhere and he’s got on baggy sweats and a plain t shirt and he’s not Louis from One Direction for once and it’s nice.

_“Like what?”_

_“Like this. I just like seeing you like this, you know?”_

_“Way to make yourself feel better, curly,"_ he says, but he doesn’t mean it.

And Harry will get sort of frustrated and he’ll pick Louis up and sit him on the counter just because he can, and Louis will laugh between kisses and it’s all sun and they’re in a bubble and he wants it to be like this, every day of his life…

But it’s not like that. And when they wake up, it’s two hours up too early and phone calls and cold cereal and getting dressed too fast and meeting everyone downstairs to head towards the airport or some signing or some interview and it’s all business and this is their lives.

And when they look at each other sometimes they see the pain, the uncertainty, but most of all, the exhaustion, and they erase it when they have to, they’ve gotten good at that now, but it’s there. And they have to ignore it, and they smile sweetly for fans who ask them to marry them and do interviews, answering those questions about what they like in a girl, and it’s gotten so common they don’t even have to think about it, but sometimes they desperately want to tell them they’re not looking for anything because they have something already.

Although the exhaustion is there, so is the hope, and they thumbs up sometimes to let each other know they’re still there, and they’ve been told not to, but Louis’ been sort of the rebel and it’s rubbed off on Harry too. And they’ll imagine their lives when it’s just them, with sounds of bacon sizzling and the smell of tea and the noise of Saturday cartoons Louis liked to put on, and maybe they’d go for a walk that afternoon if they felt like it, go buy a dozen sweet rolls and eat all of them on the way back. Watching movies on rainy days with Louis’ legs draped over Harry’s and it’s a comforting visual; it’s nice. And it keeps them both smiling on some days when it feels hopeless.

And when it’s at the end of the day, and they’re at some new hotel room, going through jet lag, they hear schedules for the next day and they speak briefly with those people who don’t smile.

When the door shuts and it’s darkness and it’s quiet, Louis will shrug and kind of smile and he’ll just stand at the window and he’s there for a long time.

Harry goes to him and they hug, and breathe into it like it’s the first time all day they’ve truly felt something, and they’ll make love, and sometimes after they finish, Harry will swear he can see wetness on Louis’ cheeks and in his eyes before he turns away from him, and he’ll hear a sniffle every now and again, and one time he asked about it but Louis was quick to give some sort of excuse.

Harry knows they’re all lies but he leaves it alone because now is the time to be quiet.

Because it’s only in the mornings where it’s quiet. And the curtains are open just enough for a small sliver of light to seep through, highlighting their faces with warmth, and they’re together, and Harry can feel Louis’ fringe tickling his back, and he’ll whisper _“Good morning.”_ And things are good in that moment, things are okay.

...


End file.
